by Deck Davis
“Drink up, bitch,” said Tony.
He drained the bottle and then threw it to the floor. He wiped his lips. They were wet now, but they had been cracked so long that the skin had torn. With his thirst quenched, he felt his stomach cramp up.
“Don’t suppose you got a steak in that thing?” he said, pointing at Tony’s jacket.
Tony shook his head. “I’m not your damn dad.”
Maybe not, thought Ash. You look like him, though. Following that train of thought made him think of his parents, and that made a puddle of guilt slosh in his stomach. He needed to get back to them but first, he had to focus.
Ash walked over the Ellie’s desk and picked up the phone. It was dead. He uselessly pressed the buttons, but nothing happened. He knew that in severe power outages, not just fuses blowing, the telephone lines would go down. The fact was that with each passing year the things we used were getting more sensitive to electrical and power problems, not less. Throw god damned orcs into the mix and things got a hell of a lot worse.
Tony started to walk across the room. When he reached the door, he stopped.
“Wait,” said Ash. “Where are you going?”
Tony turned around. He zipped up his coat to his chin and held his rifle in both hands. From here he looked like a hunter on a trip, but Ash wondered if there was more to it than that.
“Pasture is done,” said Tony. “The power’s gone and it doesn’t look like it’s coming back, and a bunch of green-cocked little imps are slaughtering everyone they see. A few people drove out of town and that’s the last we saw of them. I don’t suppose you know, but someone smashed the pharmacy window and cleaned out the drug aisle. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I got a wife and a ranch to look after. It’s in Greenock on a patch of land I own, and I gotta get back there. I only came back to make sure your skinny ass doesn’t starve to death.”
“Greenock’s out west isn’t it?” said Ash.
Tony nodded. “Fifty miles out of Pasture. About as far away from the power station as you can get without leaving the town jurisdiction. I’m a Pasture boy and don’t want to leave, but I also like my distance from the place.”
“Damn. That’s the opposite direction to me.”
Tony looked at the ground. Ash could tell that he felt bad for him. Tony seemed like a good guy, and he’d already done more than enough to help a man who had knowingly swindled him out of money. The fact that he had come back for him at all was going above and beyond.
“Can I borrow your car?” Ash said. “Mine’s dead.”
“Are you out of your mind? You think I’d lend you my pick-up?”
“A goddamn bicycle then. Something.”
Tony lifted a hand off his rifle and ran it through his hair. The top of his grey hair was thick and it seemed like he found it tough to run his fingers through it. For a guy in his sixties he had a fine head of hair.
“Do you understand what’s happening here, Ash?”
“Apparently some guy named Dr. Aitken opened up a portal, and creatures from another dimension are spewing out of it. That about the size of things?”
Tony nodded. “Pasture’s under attack from goddamn monsters, and it’s time Daddy cleaned up the mess. Follow me.”
“I thought you weren’t my dad?”
“Just have that flame-shit handy and shut up.”
“If we come across any creatures, you’ll need to weaken them, but let me get the kill. I can only drain life from things I murder.”
“Any other day, I’d ask if your tiny brain has turned to slush. But today’s taught me one thing; just when you think you got things figured out, god shoves a goblin up your ass. Take this and come on.”
He handed Ash a dagger. Ash wasn’t so keen on getting up close to things, but it’d do. He doubted that Blood Mage was much of a fighter class, but it’d be good to have another form of attack for when his HP was too low to risk an Ignis flame.
“Let’s do this then, daddy,” he said.
“Let’s rock,” said Tony, and clicked his fingers.
Stepping outside the station made him feel like he’d walked through a wormhole and into a parallel dimension. It was daylight now, and the glint of the sun blinded him. The streets were stained with blood, shit, and bullet casings. The sign on the butcher’s shop had changed even more, so that now it read’ ALCHEMIS.’
Someone had dragged a sofa and two chairs out of a furniture shop and left them in the middle of the road. God knew what their thinking behind that was. The Reedley pharmacy, as Tony had said, had been raided, and the front of the store was littered with discarded brown vials of pills. A couple of cars were abandoned on the roadside, one with the front doors open and another with a set of keys sitting on the roof with a pink fluffy dice on the keyring. None of the shops were open, and not a single building showed the signs of having any power.
There was a smell in the air of food starting to rot. South down the street was the butcher’s shop, and Ash supposed that the refrigerators had failed and the meat had begun to spoil. It was crazy that just a few days without power were all it took to tear the fabric of society.
As deserted as town was, it wasn’t long before the goblins showed up. He and Tony stood side to side as a dozen of them rounded a corner, saw the two humans, and charged.
The air soon filled with the smell of gunpowder and the crack of Tony’s magically-charged rifle. Goblin blood stained the streets. True to his word, Tony knee-capped a few of them so that Ash could get the killing blows. After Life Draining enough HP, he was able to use Ignis again. He felt power flow through him as he smoked five of their goblin asses, and the scent of barbequed goblin flesh filled the air.
When the battle was done, he needed a sit down. Not only that, but he needed a goddamn drink.
Stat time! said FF.
Ignis 55%
**Life drain 100% - Level up to level 2!**
- Drain life from multiple corpses at once
With his new Life Drain level, he sucked life from the fallen goblins, topping up his HP to a healthier, but still not good enough, 255. He really needed to find a way to regenerate HP when there were no fresh kills around.
“Are there any passive spells I can get that will help with HP?” he asked FF.
Stay tuned, asshole. Just keep levelling up. Until then, loot anything you kill. You might get lucky and find a potion or two.
“Who you talking to?” asked Tony.
“Just an annoying voice inside my head. You have one too, don’t you?”
“Ah, you mean the magic god damned stat fairy that keeps chirping up when I kill. What did you name yours?”
“Fuckface,” answered Ash. “What about you?”
“Dave.”
“We better get to your ranch,” said Ash. “I need a vehicle. And a bed. And a drink. And a steak.”
“Not yet,” said Tony, and started walking down the street.
“Where are you going?” asked Ash.
“Follow me and see, dick-stick,” said Tony, and started running.
He looked at the end of the street where Tony was starting to disappear from view. Part of him wanted to go with him to his land outside the town. At least it would be safe there, he guessed. As Tony turned the corner, Ash noticed the town hall at the end of the road. There was a wooden sign outside with words painted on it in red.
Emergancy Town Meeting. Cum one and all.
Someone needs to learn how to spell, thought Ash.
Chapter Eight
Surprise, motherfuckers!
He walked across town, stepping over red bloodstains on the paving and avoiding severed fingers, ears, and even a hand of the townsfolk who’d met their end at the edge of goblin blades.
Some of the shop windows were smashed, and their stock had been looted. Ash couldn’t tell if the looters had been human, or something decidedly inhuman. It didn’t matter, he guessed. Shop owners had a hell of a lot more to worry about now than some missing stock.<
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When they reached the door of the town hall, Tony turned to him. His expression was stern.
“Keep a low profile in here,” he said. “Stay at the back and keep your flappy mouth shut. You might be able to shoot fire out of your ass, but that won’t help when half the folks in there wanna gut you like a pig.”
“Subtlety is my forte,” said Ash. “Don’t worry.”
Tony grabbed the handle and was going to open it. Ash got there first. He kicked the door open and strode inside. Fifty Pasture Downs residents turned to face him.
“Surprise, motherfuckers!” he said.
“God damn it,” said Tony, putting his hand to his face.
The Pasture Downs folks were seated on foldaway chairs lined up in rows. They faced a stage over at the front. On seeing Ash, some of the residents stood up. By the looks on their faces, they were just about ready to tear him limb from limb.
He felt like he’d just interrupted them all while they were watching two pigs banging, or whatever passed for entertainment around here. He could practically feel them mentality beating the hell out of him.
Tony showed them his rifle. Blue energy buzzed around the hilt. What kind of goddamn blue mage was he? Ash found himself wondering again.
“Settle down,” said Tony. “I’ve got our favorite conman under control. Get on with your meeting.”
The town hall could have housed a few hundred people, but there were only fifty hicks in there today. The power was out and dark shadows sprang off the walls. The air was stuffy and smelled of sweat and stale booze. There were dozens of windows on each side of the room, but the blinds had been closed to block the room from outside view. Over on one wall, a large poster advertised the upcoming Pasture Downs Vegetable Growing Competition. Doubt that’s gonna happen anytime soon.
Ash moved into a patch of darkness at the back of the room and listened.
A man was stood on stage talking at the crowd. Ash squinted and realized that it was Kenny, the guy in the oil shirt who had come within inches of knocking him out when he was leaving the mayor’s office.
Kenny looked like the kind of guy who’d spent his entire life in Pasture Downs, never straying beyond its borders. It meant he’d never see much of the world, but in a way, Ash envied him. He’d spent a lot of time on the road himself, and sometimes he thought it’d be good to put down roots.
It seemed like Kenny assumed leadership in the meeting. Ash felt like leaving, but he had nowhere else he could go.
“What about Blackwater and Olton?” said Kenny from the stage.
A man two rows in shouted back at him. He was a short man with a bald head and cheap plastic glasses. Next to him was his worried-looking wife and a young boy with a shaved head.
“We sent the Adam’s brothers to Blackridge but they ain’t come back. Yellow Pete trotted into town on his horse a few hours ago. Says it’s the same over in Olton, ‘cept people are even more pissed down there than we are. One man got stabbed over a hand crank radio.”
“What about the military base?” said Kenny.
“No one goes near there. You know what they’re like.”
“Then maybe we ought to. That’s what the army is for, ain’t it? To protect us against crap like this? I don’t see why they’re sitting there with tugging each other off while the town turns to shit.”
The man in row two folded his arms. “I’m not risking it. They’ve got itchy fingers and shoot on sight. You know how they be; they treat us like crap on their shoe.”
“You know how they are,” corrected a man from across the room. “Not how they be. Sheesh, John. All that time you spent copying my homework when we were growin’ up, and you never leaned anything?”
He was stood up four rows back on the opposite side. He was short and had a belly that drooped over his belt. He wore a thick coat with a fur hood. He looked like the kind of guy who was happiest sprawled out on his sofa with a six-pack next to him. In fairness that could have described half of Pasture Down’s population, but this guy’s gut was particularly big.
“We need to be wary of the nuclear plant,” he said, in a voice more refined than Ash expected. “If the power is gone, the rods will need to be cooled. And if they aren’t, I wouldn’t like to be within a hundred miles of the place. We need to know for sure, or we’re all more screwed than a priest caught in a brothel.”
Kenny paced the stage. “I don’t understand what you mean Greeb. We don’t all have fancy degrees.”
The scientist named Greeb took his seat as if he had just realized that everyone in the room was staring at him and he was uncomfortable with it. Once he was in his seat, he carried on talking.
“Reactors are usually in a state of controlled meltdown. Controlled being the key word there. We need the nuclear rods to meltdown because that turns hot water into stream, which then triggers the turbines and makes us a fresh batch of electricity. The rods are kept from reaching dangerous meltdown levels by cold water flow controlled by pumps. And guess what powers the pumps?”
Kenny stopped pacing. “Electricity.”
“Correct,” said Greeb.
“So, what happens if the rods aren’t cooled?”
“The plant goes into full meltdown, and anyone in the surrounding areas dies of radioactive poisoning. Either that, or they grow ten extra fingers and two extra dicks.”
Kenny folded his arms. He stared out at everyone in the room. He stood tall with his shoulders straight, and Ash could tell that this was a man who liked to give the impression that he scared of nobody. Something about it didn’t ring true; maybe the way his shoulders hunched every so often, and how he straightened them when he realized, as if it would give away his cocky act. Since Ash had spent most of his adult life lying to people, he knew a fellow bullshitter when he saw one.
“We need to go check out the plant,” Kenny said. “I’m not giving up Pasture lightly, but I’m not waiting here for some toxic crap to blow my way. We gotta know for sure if they managed to cool down the plant or not.”
There were some murmurings, and a lot of the forty men and women in the room turned to their wives and husbands with worried faces. They started to chatter amongst each other, but Ash couldn’t pick out any of the words. Most of these folks’ idea of trouble was running out of beer, yet here they were faced with orcs and goblins rampaging through their streets. He almost felt bad for them.
Kenny stomped his feet. The echoed of his boots silenced the room. “We got any volunteers?” he said. “Anyone who wants to do this fine town a service?”
Ash walked out of the shadows and strode towered the front of the hall. His boots thudded and echoed up to the ceiling above. Everyone looked at him as he passed them. They were so angry he could almost feel the heat coming from their faces.
“Mr. Hobbes,” said Kenny from the front of the room. “Everyone’s favorite conman. Glad you could join us.”
The stares of the people in the hall were so angry that they smoldered, and Ash worried they made the room a fire risk. He had no doubt in his mind that most of them would love to tear him to pieces.
“Grab hold of him,” said Kenny, nodding at two guys who were on the stage with him.
Ash held up his hand and gathered a ball of Ignis flame.
Not the best idea, said FF.
A couple of people in the rows gasped. Ash’s arcane power cast a purple glow over the darkened room.
“I’m not gonna hurt you guys,” said Ash. “but someone needs to go to the nuclear plant. If you’re all gonna be bitches about it, I’ll go. I need a ride to get there. And once I’m done, I get to keep the ride.”
Chapter Nine
A Blood Sprinkler
There were a few grumblings behind him, but Ash ignored them and waited for Kenny to respond. He didn’t expect his words would get the greatest reception.
“Forget that,” said Kenny. “The only thing you can do for this town is fit my foot up your ass.”
With that, he pulled a long hun
ting knife from his belt. The grip was green, but a lot of the color was faded. Like a lot of folks in Pasture Downs, Kenny was probably a keen hunter. He’d let himself get out of shape in recent years judging by his beer-gut, but he was still a big guy. Men like that were the most dangerous; all it’d take was one punch from his meaty paws, and Ash would be out like a light.
“Me and the boys are gonna make your asshole smile,” said Kenny.
“I don’t think that threat came out quite like you’d meant it,” said Ash.
This served only to inflame Kenny further, and Ash wished that for once, he’d learned the skill of self-restraint.
